let me espresso my feelings
by renee walker
Summary: When Hermes meets Artemis at a coffee shop, he doesn't expect the unlikely friendship that blooms. He doesn't expect to spill his guts out to her after the trial of his son. Mortal & Coffee Shop AU. For Lils.


**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson, not me.**

 **For Lils for the Caesar's Palace Exchange. P** **rompt: coffee shop AU.**

* * *

"Hermes," the barista calls out and he dutifully shuffles forward. "A large espresso for Hermes?"

"Thank you," he tells her gratefully, taking the to-go cup from her. She smiles and nods and he can't help but notice how gorgeous she is - kaleidoscope eyes and pearly teeth, bright against tan satin skin and glossy dark hair that's cut unusually choppy and done in uneven braids.

"No problem," she says easily. There's tension around her eyes that suggests the day hasn't been smooth for her, so he lives a small tip. He hasn't even turned around before there's another drink sliding onto the counter, made by a different employee with pretty blonde curls. Her sharp gray eyes melt into a liquid mercury color when the light from the large windows hits them.

She calls, "Artemis? Medium black Assam tea for Artemis?"

Hermes looks up, surprised, to see who this _Artemis_ is. He's not used to people having mythological names as well.

 _Artemis_ turns out to be a woman around his age. She has braided dark auburn hair - dyed, since he can see her black roots - with cold eyes and down-turned lips.

"Excuse me," she snaps coolly and he steps back automatically. "You're in my way." It's not quite fair to use that tone on him, considering they've never even spoken before, but he rolls with the punches. Steps back and nods apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I'll get out of your way." Hermes slips out of the coffee shop, sipping his coffee and disappearing into the abstract streets of New York. He has a case to crack and he was sure as hell that he needs to get back to the office before everything went to shit.

* * *

Hermes finds himself face-to-face with Artemis only the next day. He was up by four this morning, too early to head to the office, and the work he needed, still needs, to finish was a case that wasn't making any sense to him right then. So he went for a run. He finds himself at _Half-Blood, Half-Caffeine_ an hour and forty minutes later.

It's Hermes's regular coffee shop, conveniently open twenty-four hours. He isn't very surprised when he realizes where he ended up.

Artemis is gazing at him neutrally. He holds open the door for her and she grants him a "thank you."

Hermes thumbs through his phone, the latest _Olympia Elec._ smartphone, as he waits for his French-pressed coffee and blueberry bagel with low-fat cream cheese. It arrives with Artemis's order. He can't help but notice she got one of the shop's infamous green juices and a rainbow acai bowl that looks like a piece of art. It's very basic, but he doesn't comment.

She raises an eyebrow, silently daring him to, and when he only stares back dryly, she narrows her eyes and sweeps out without another word.

Hermes gets an Uber to drive him home to change into a suit for the day.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he dryly tells Artemis a week later after seeing her almost everyday. It's almost midnight, it's been a long day working on a sketchy case and, even after drinking coffee a lot, he wants more.

Artemis gazes back at him impassively. They're both waiting by the counter for their drinks. She doesn't say anything, seemingly ignoring him, but she does make a clicking sound of acknowledgement that makes him smile slightly. She's so unaffected and collected, looking for all the world like she's actually ignoring him, so the little things she does to show she notices him make Hermes smile.

Then Apollo strolls in, dressed in a tight blue shirt, black pants that fit him like a second skin and sunglasses, blond hair immaculate. He's wearing a grin that says he's going to raise hell. He's smiling so pure and white, it's practically blinding. "Hermes!" he chirps. "Artie!"

 _Artie?_ Hermes slants a glance at Artemis. She's looking at Apollo with a hint of a frown and the air around her is cold. "Hi, Apollo," he says, accepting a hug from his friend. "Why are you here so late?"

"Wrapped up a shoot way later than it was supposed to go. They wanted a sultry, sexy vibe and let me keep the clothes. Not that I blame them, I look great in them. When do I not look great?" Apollo pulls down his glasses to wink and Hermes snorts a laugh, clapping a hand on his shoulder in amusement. "I'm actually hitting the clubs tonight, wanna come? Aphrodite promised to introduce me to some babes who'll be totally attracted to me. But who wouldn't be? I'm awesome!"

Hermes laughs again. "No, man, it's okay. I've got a case file to review."

"You're still on that?" Apollo asks, his voice dropping. He goes from carefree party animal to concerned friend in less than a blink. Hermes notices Artemis distancing herself to give them privacy. He's grateful for her decency. "Any leads? You don't think it could be…?"

"It might be Luke," Hermes tells him quietly. "All the evidence is against him and he's not giving much up for us to work with. He mentioned knowing Kronos, they became 'friends' recently. I'm suspecting Kronos might have at least influenced Luke, he has a dubious background. Something's not adding up."

Apollo nods, his face attentive and unusually serious. It's a bit disconcerting. The pictures of Apollo plastered across billboards, magazine covers and movie screens are all of him shining and vibrant, smile suave and eyes sparkling. This Apollo is slightly different, still energetic, yet sharper, concern painted across his face. Even if he is still glowing.

"Good luck, bro, good luck," is all he says, deep and sympathetic. Apollo turns to Artemis, his bright grin making another appearance on his handsome face. "Artie! Little sis! You never visit, you never call. You never let me meet those lovely girls of yours." He slips an arm over her shoulder and she elbows him in the gut to get away. Apollo winces in pain. Hermes reaches out a hand to steady him.

 _Little sis? Apollo's elusive twin sister was Artemis?_ This _Artemis_?

"You're never going to meet them," she says curtly.

"Why not?" Apollo whines, reaching for his sister again and she steps smoothly out of his reach. Her hair is loose today and it undulates behind her. It reminds Hermes of the ripple of Apollo's hair when he runs a hand through it.

Artemis levels Apollo with a flat look. "You'll try and seduce them like the last class."

"Class?" Hermes prompts, cutting Apollo off before he can whine more. He's sympathetic enough to Apollo's pout to wrap Apollo's arm around his shoulders and let him lean there. However, this conversation seems like a regular enough occurrence judging by her dry replies and flat expression and if he knows Apollo, there will no doubt be a dramatic monologue or blow-up he'd prefer to avoid. It's always funny, but not what Hermes needs right now. It's also not something, it seems, Artemis wants to hear either.

Artemis tilts her head slightly at him. "I teach archery." Hermes nods and this would have sufficed if Apollo didn't cut in.

"She's missing the part where she's one of the best archery teachers around and also, you know, a star archer," he adds, waving to his security detail. "She's part of the Olympic archery team and is a world champion. She's got tons of medals and awards. But keep it hush-hush alright? They haven't announced the team for the Olympics quite yet."

Hermes raises his eyebrows. Apollo is beaming with genuine pride, fluffed up like a peacock over his twin's accomplishments. Artemis looks as cool as ever, unfazed. The girl behind the counter looks extremely unimpressed with the whole exchange.

"If you don't mind," the girl says crisply. "Your orders are ready." Her name tag reads Reyna and Hermes gives her an apologetic look, tipping her. Artemis also slips a few bills and coins into the tip jar with a dip of her head.

Apollo cocks an eyebrow at the dark Italian roast that Hermes picks up. "Dude, are you sure you should be drinking that at midnight?" Hermes shrugs and takes a sip.

Artemis makes a sound in her throat that could be a chuckle. The look on her face suggests it was and that the sound was meant to slip out. He smiles slyly at her over the rim of his cup.

* * *

It becomes an unofficial routine to meet at _Half-Blood, Half-Caffeine_. They both keep odd hours and run into each other fairly consistently. Hermes will work on a case (specifically, the homicide case involving Luke Castellan) for as long as he can before becoming inefficient with a headache. From what Hermes hears from Apollo, Artemis will usually train for the majority of the day or break for sustenance before going to the coffee shop.

They've progressed to actual talk as they wait in line for their drinks and they talk even after. It makes Hermes smile to hear the antics of Artemis's pupils and the dry tales of what occurs at practice. He sometimes offers advice on dealing with rowdy people, since he's got a lot of experience in that field. She doesn't ask, though, so he only does it when he notices the subtle, strained lines of her shoulders and face.

"How's your case coming?" Artemis asks. She's sipping a protein shake and eating a green salad that's dotted with bright fruits and beige chicken strips across from him. Hermes has a spinach, cucumber, cheese, turkey and mustard sandwich, his favorite, and a steaming Americano that he takes another swallow of.

"Fine," he says, shrugging. She gives him a cool look to convey how unconvinced she is and he corrects himself before she can mutter about 'lying men' who 'attempt to hide important facts from women like they can't handle the truth.' He learned this the first time he made the mistake of withholding information from her and he may be a criminal law expert but, apparently, he's poor at evading questions from his friends.

More likely is that Artemis is just that perceptive.

"A lot of things are becoming clearer," Hermes explains slowly, trying to think his words through. While Artemis knows he's working on a homicide case, trying to defend someone who looks very guilty, he hasn't told her the entire situation or who he's defending. He does suspect that she's pieced together the articles about Luke's upcoming trial and his own case. "A lot of evidence is giving way to more factors. More people, more places, a lot more different situations. My client… They're not giving up enough information these days but the facts they've give us before are piecing together slowly."

Artemis nods. Takes a bite of her salad and gives him another definite nod. "That's good. That's really good. I'm sure you'll be aware of all the factors before the trial." Hermes's eyes track the shape of her lips as she speaks and he snaps himself out of it. Not soon enough. Artemis has clearly noticed, eyes narrowing in a way that displays how she doesn't like being ogled at.

She's a bit of a hardcore feminist, bordering on extremist, but Hermes thinks her heart is in the right place.

"Thank you," is all he says. He smiles, switching the topic to something lighter. Her face doesn't break from it's cold mask but she follows his topic-change.

* * *

They have each other's numbers by the time Luke's case is over. Granted, Artemis gave Hermes hers after he collapsed from over exhaustion after a week-long bender with the detectives also on the case where everything finally fell into place. Apollo couldn't contact him and he dragged Artemis with him to search for Hermes, where they found him slumped over his desk in a locked office.

It didn't look good. In fact, as Artemis informed him in her chilliest voice after chewing him out, it was a downright pitiful sight.

Hermes knew this was her way of saying it was terrifying to see. The angles of her face were much more pronounced than usual, her eyes cold and unforgiving as she handed him a slip of paper with her number and a cup of decaffeinated black coffee from _Half-Blood, Half-Caffeine_. The paper had her number on it and a note saying not to call her unless it was an emergency.

Hermes didn't know how they just somehow began texting and never stopped. So, three hours after finishing up the trial and making sure his job is done, he texts her, _Want to get drunk?_

 _Ask Apollo._

 _He's in Milan for a photoshoot I need a drink my client's trial just wrapped up_

 _I'll be at your place in half an hour_ , she replies. Hermes knows she could have snapped at him about his grammar, as she has before, just to make his life difficult. He's glad she doesn't now.

Artemis appears at his condo twenty-five minutes after she texts. She's notorious for being early while Hermes is always either exactly on time or running a bit late due to his busy schedule. He finds himself rather impressed that she gets to him so quickly. Especially considering she lives a good deal away.

"How did you get here so quickly?"

"I drove in traffic that wasn't rush hour," she says archly, rolling her eyes. Artemis waves the bottle of vodka in her hand. "I also had alcohol on hand."

"Come on in, then," Hermes grins, letting her slip in.

She turns to face him when she reaches his living room and he's struck by how young she looks. They're the same age and she can be much more solemn and cold than him, but there's something youthful to her. She's all broad strokes and defined angles, done in shades of auburn and tan, blue and black. Her eyes are wide, hair in a braid. She's dressed in a work out sweater, leggings and white socks and she looks almost vulnerable.

Hermes saw himself in the mirror when he got home and knows he looks a bit wrecked. Mussed curls and weary eyes that are about as pigmented as trodden grass. His Armani suit is mostly still in place, he's taken off his tie and jacket, but it's wrinkled.

"Getting drunk is not a good way to deal with your problems," she says seriously.

Hermes sighs. "I know," he says. "I need to tell you something though."

Artemis regards him coolly. "You can do that without getting drunk. Will yourself to do it sober." Her voice is cutting, words blunt, and, for a moment, he thinks he can.

Then Hermes remembers the look on Luke's face, May's body, the tension in Chris's shoulders as they pored over the evidence. The scene that he found right before he submerged himself in his work.

"I could," he agrees. There's an ache in his chest and his throat feels dry. "Right now, I don't think I can - I need a drink." This is going to be an uncomfortable shitfest and it's going to be one that he has to actively participate in. He definitely needs a drink.

Artemis studies him for a moment before nodding. She's the one who pours out a tall glass of vodka for him and slides it over his kitchen island. It tastes like fire and burns as it goes down.

It's the quality stuff. God, he's so thankful for her.

Hermes is on his second drink, Artemis still nursing her first, when their silence breaks and he begins speaking. "What do you know of Luke Castellan?"

"He was charged for homicide," Artemis replies evenly. She lets him gaze at the translucent depths of his drink instead of making eye contact. "His mother committed suicide when he was young. He attempted to commit suicide a few months ago. He was also your client, correct? The one you were defending in court." The last sentence isn't a question. Nevertheless, it's clear she wants an answer.

Hermes nods. "He was my client. He's also my son." Artemis doesn't say anything and he doesn't look up from his glass. He plows on. "I had a thing with May, his mother, a long time ago. It was serious, but then I had to leave because I got a job in a major law firm here. We couldn't do long distance, it would be too hard, we agreed, so we broke up. I didn't realize she had a baby until I got a call one day saying that May Castellan had died and I was on her will. Not for Luke, he got put in the hands of a man named Chiron. Nice guy, he's a teacher and paralyzed from the waist-down after a riding accident. Much better suited to parenting than I am. I got some possessions.

"I couldn't visit Luke, I didn't want to make false promises since I was in Manhattan and he was in the outskirts of New York and I was extremely busy. That's no real excuse, I know. Then I get a call last year from Chiron saying that Luke was in trouble. I met up with him, I tried to help him the best I could, but in the end… I guess it wasn't enough if he tried to die."

Artemis is quiet for a long moment. He takes a long gulp of his drink and lifts his eyes enough to see her take a mouthful of hers. She catches his eye, then, and makes him hold her steady gaze.

"Luke was framed for the homicides," she says, voice unwavering. Again, it's not a question and he's so thankful for her, that she knows to fill in the blanks, that she's perceptive enough to piece everything else together. He knows she can fit the puzzle pieces of articles, recent news and what he's told her to see the big picture. "He was there, an accomplice to getting into the building, but he wasn't the one that killed them. Kronos was the person responsible. Luke knew that his couldn't say what he wanted to freely without getting killed. So he attempted to kill himself and left a suicide note explaining it all. Chiron found him before he died and rescued him."

Hermes nods. The ache hasn't gone away, but the weight on his back lightens. Artemis's face is unreadable. She's not keeping up her usual cool exterior and he doesn't quite know what to make of that right now.

"I was a coward," Hermes admits. "I couldn't contact Luke before. May's memory, it was too painful to see him. Every time I saw him I thought of her. I still loved her, even after we had broken up."

"That's not all you wanted to tell me," Artemis prods after a heartbeat, her gaze solemn. Hermes gives a shaky, humorless smile.

"You know me too well." He lets himself take another gulp of liquid courage, knowing he's going to falter without it, and looks Artemis in the eye. "When I was younger, I was a big troublemaker. I loved pulling pranks, I still do actually, but I was also into pickpocketing and stealing. I was good enough to not get caught until my dad was cleaning out my room, being a good fatherly figure for once, and found some of the stuff I stole. Expensive stuff. Stuff he knew I wouldn't buy for myself. I pretty much had to defend myself in court and barely managed to come out with a large fine and a lot of community service. The whole ordeal, the realization that this wasn't fun anymore, that it was something real with possible major consequences, made me decide not to steal any longer."

Hermes had grown as a person from the experience. It made him become more sensible, more attuned to the real world and more serious about his work as he had to be punctual and put a lot of effort into community service. He's not really thankful for the experience, but he can't deny that it did mature him.

Artemis is, as always, steady and collected. She takes the glass away from him and, at his pointed glance, refills it reluctantly and slides it over. Hermes doesn't take a drink, he just waits for her to talk.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asks eventually. Her voice is firm and low, probing for the answer. "You know I won't tell you that your actions were justified. You know I won't try and justify them or ask you to justify them. I'm sympathetic to your struggles, but I won't analyze the past with you. Especially as you seem to have done that yourself."

Hermes lifts a shoulder and sighs. This time, he does take a drink. "Apollo knows. We bonded over mutually fucking up in the past. Now you know. I don't have anything to really gain from this. I needed someone to talk to and you're here, aren't you? The only things I could gain is getting this off my chest, because if anyone deserves to know, it's you, and your trust." The trust part is quite contrary. After everything he's told her, she has all the reason not to trust him.

Hermes knows her history with men. She told him two weeks ago when she and Apollo drove him out to the forest they explored as kids. He knows about Actaeon and Orion, the former raped her and the latter attempted to. He knows about all the girls who have been assaulted or hurt by the men in their lives, whom Artemis leads to a shelter she started up. He knows about Apollo and Artemis's father, who abandoned them the moment he found out their mother was pregnant, yet still sent them birthday gifts. Like that would make up for him not being there.

All she told him, after she finished her story, was that she thought he deserved to know. How she thought Hermes seemed decent and he knows there was a weight in his stomach after she said that. There was sunshine in her hair and his eyes, the sky reflected in Apollo's piercing gaze and he remembered the curl of her lashes and how the flutter of them made dust particles scatter; the line of her collarbone peaking around the straps of her top and the shape of her folded hands, calloused and tanned dark.

Now, seated at the marble island in his kitchen, Artemis looks at him levelly. Hermes is struck by how blue her eyes are, a deep midnight blue that he hasn't really registered until now. The artificial lights have shadows being cast over the planes of her face. The curve of her cheekbones are sharp as cut glass and her pink lips press together. There are shadows under her eyes, he realizes, and shadows lurking within them. He wishes he hadn't brought this upon her but she really deserves to know the truth. Deserved to know since she told him he seemed decent.

"You were stupid and you can still be stupid," Artemis says finally. Coolly and evenly, like it's a simple fact. "You were a coward and you've made a lot of mistakes."

"I know." The emotion is gone from her face. It's blank and smooth, like a stone, save for her pursed lips and fluttering fan of lashes. Hermes knows he's tense, coiled like a serpent, but he's not poised to strike or fight at all. He's ready to take a heavy blow.

"You made a lot of mistakes," she repeats. "But you're working on redeeming yourself. You've done some good so far, Hermes. You're still working towards redemption and, someday, you'll get there."

Hermes exhales deeply, something tensing in his chest and releasing in his shoulders. He realizes the ache has dissipated, if only a bit. "You're too kind," he laughs and it sounds kind of broken. Like the shattering of ceramic or the rasp of a coffee cup as it slides across a table.

Artemis arches an eyebrow. She looks at him flatly. "I'm really not," she replies. He knows it's the truth.

"Thank you," he says. What he means is I don't deserve your trust. What he means is thank you for staying beside me anyway. What he means is you look beautiful right now and I've never been more grateful for you. What it comes off as is thank you for believing I can make up for my mistakes and he means that too.

Artemis looks so young and her eyes are as ancient as the night sky. They are as bright as any star and her mouth twists into something that could be a smile. "You're welcome."

They're at the coffee shop when Hermes tells her how he's finally using up all his saved vacation time to go to Rio to watch her compete in the Olympics. They're at the archery range and Artemis is nocking another arrow when he kisses her. They're in Rio when Apollo grins at them and tells them how he gave _Half-Blood, Half Caffeine_ a five hundred-dollar tip on behalf of them.


End file.
